Since its premiere at the Venice Film Festival, The Brutalist has garnered widespread acclaim for its ambitious exploration of 20th-century history through the lens of a Hungarian architect. Director Brady Corbet's three-and-a-half-hour epic offers a unique and daring perspective on post-war America, focusing on the struggles of an artist trying to leave his mark on a new landscape. Adrien Brody delivers a flawless performance as László Tóth, whose journey from Europe to America is both personal and symbolic. However, while the film's first half shines with brilliance, its latter part becomes increasingly complex and occasionally loses its way.

The Rise of a Visionary Architect

László Tóth's arrival in America marks the beginning of a transformative journey. Influenced by the German Bauhaus movement, he brings a distinctive architectural style that challenges the norms of American design. His initial projects, such as the reading room/library for Harrison Lee Van Buren, showcase his uncompromising vision, which is both admired and criticized. Brody's portrayal of Tóth captures the depth of an artist who embodies the era's intellectual and emotional turmoil, making the audience feel the weight of his experiences.

Tóth's interactions with Van Buren highlight the clash between artistic integrity and commercial expectations. While Van Buren initially dismisses Tóth's work as too cold and austere, a magazine article changes his perception, leading to a commission for a monumental community center. This project becomes a symbol of Tóth's struggle to reconcile his artistic ideals with the practical demands of society. The film's opening section moves with brisk energy, driven by Brody's compelling performance, which conveys both the tragedy and triumph of an artist striving to create something lasting.

The Challenges of Ambition

After the intermission, the narrative shifts focus to include Tóth's family members, particularly his wife Erzsébet and niece Zsófia. These characters add layers of complexity to the story but also introduce elements of melodrama that sometimes overshadow the central drama. Erzsébet's wartime injuries and Zsófia's trauma bring a human dimension to the narrative, yet they divert attention from Tóth's architectural endeavors. The film's second half becomes more intricate, with moments of moral retribution that echo classic literature.

Despite its ambitious scope, The Brutalist occasionally falters in maintaining the coherence of its themes. The connection between Tóth and his vision, so vividly portrayed by Brody, begins to weaken as the narrative expands. The film seems to lose its sense of direction, much like an allegory about a director's struggle to complete his masterpiece without external interference. Nevertheless, Corbet's talent shines through, hinting at even greater works to come. Ultimately, The Brutalist remains a significant achievement, albeit one that could benefit from tighter storytelling.